


Mama mia pizzeria

by thebatmandiaries



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, a hetalia fic?, in my 2020?, it started as a joke and now we're here, it's more likely than you think, this is a crack fic for one (1) person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebatmandiaries/pseuds/thebatmandiaries
Summary: Prussia and Romano go to Olive Garden.
Relationships: Prussia & South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Mama mia pizzeria

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/gifts).



> The title came to me at like 3 am last night, don't ask. Also, why did I write this? Enjoy, I guess. And to the friend I wrote this for: i hope you enjoy this stupid story can from our chats. If I'm suffering you're suffering with me.

Romano looks at the person in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is what  _ aren’t  _ I doing here?” The man looks at him and laughs. “West thinks I can help you out of your funk. I have to say it’s not very awesome of you to isolate yourself.”

He scowls and crosses his arms. “I will do whatever I want,  _ Prussia _ .” 

“Sure you will.” Prussia rolls his eyes, shoving his way into the apartment he rented while here for the world meeting.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could come inside.” He mutters some curses in Italian and closes the door.

“I let myself in, so don’t worry.” Prussia says from the kitchen. 

He frowns again and walks to the kitchen. “Are you going to eat here as well?”

“Of course! It’s only nice to offer your guests a meal when they visit.” 

“What about  _ unwanted  _ guests?” 

Prussia pokes his head out from the cabinet. “That’s when you go out because the host has nothing to eat.”

He scowls for what feels like the millionth time. “I’m not paying.”

“Great!” Prussia smiles and says, “I know the perfect place. Great Italian food.”

* * *

He looks at his menu and sighs. He has an ever-present headache, and he isn’t talking about the one seated across from him. 

It beats right behind his eyes, making the cheap lights of Olive Garden (the  _ audacity _ of Prussia to bring him here, even if they have “decent” breadsticks.”

“I can’t believe you took me here.” He puts on his best affronted face, which isn’t hard because he  _ is _ affronted.

“Why not?” He sees Prussia take a loud sip of coke. “It’s a perfectly fine eating establishment.”

“That may be true. But you said we’re going to eat some Italian food.” He makes a face like he smelled something terrible. “This is _ not _ Italian food.”

“You’re just too much of a snob to enjoy it.” 

“Maybe I just have  _ taste _ .”

A waitress walks up in the middle of the argument. “Hi, guys. Ready to order?”

Prussia smiles big and said, “Yup! I’ll have chicken Parmesan.”

“Sounds great, and you?”

Romano points to something randomly, which happens to be carbonara. “This, please.” 

“Alright, I’ll put that in and you should be getting that soon.” She smiles and puts away her notepad. “Any refills?”

They both nod and thank her as she walks away. 

Romano turns to Prussia, polite appearance falling away. “I hate you.”

Prussia rolls his eyes and ignores him.

* * *

The food is terrible. It’s not as good if he or his brother had made it, but not as bad as he thought. 

“So?” His annoying companion said. “How is it.”

“Fine.” 

“So basically delicious.” 

“I never said that.” 

“You didn’t have too. I already knew.”

Romano, not for the first time today, sighs.

* * *

The meeting next day was in full swing. Everyone was talking and mingling in the crowd and once again, Prussia came to bother him. 

_ Why does he even get to come to these anyway? _

He lets out a big sigh as soon as Prussia slaps his hand on his shoulder and says, “After this, we need to go to lunch with my brother and yours.”

“And show them the wonder of Olive Garden?” He says sarcastically.

“Exactly! I knew you’d like it.”

He slaps the hand off his shoulder and almost yells, “No! We are not going there again. I refuse.”

Everyone (or at least everyone in the vicinity to hear him) turns to look at him. Germany hesitantly looks over.

“Go where?” Germany says hesitantly. “Brother what did you do?”

Prussia smirks. “I took him to Olive Garden.”


End file.
